In Which Ron is Anxious to Know a Boy's Name
by HeartsIgnite
Summary: Ron experiences an unreasonable bout of jealousy, and Luna is as agreeable as ever. One-shot. Ron/Luna. Fluff!


**Title**: In Which Ron is Anxious to Know a Boy's Name  
**Rating**: PG  
**Genre**: Humor  
**Warnings**: Brief swearing  
**Summary**: Ron experiences an unreasonable bout of jealousy.  
**Author's Note**: For rarepair_shorts on LJ. Prompt: "what's his/her name?"  
**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter J.K. Rowling  
**Status**: Complete  
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**In Which Ron is Anxious to Know a Boy's Name**

Ron was feeling especially cheesy that morning. He'd gone out and bought his woman a nice bouquet of tulips (enchanted to bloom and wither in a continuous cycle once every three hours—because he knew she would enjoy watching each of the flowers' separate phases over and over), a packet of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum (size OL—Outrageously Large) and some of her other favorite candies, and a stuffed niffler.

Today was Luna's twenty-first birthday, and Ron was determined to dote upon her the way she deserved. It wouldn't be a repeat of last year, when Luna had gotten hives from the cake he had baked her (it was the cinnamon in his homemade Cinnamon and Vanilla Swirl Cream Cake that did it). Nor would it be the same as two years before, when the Shitzu he had bought her decided that he didn't like his new master and bit her on the chin. This year, he would make her happy—and wouldn't injure her in the process.

Ron threw the door to their flat open and bellowed a happy hello. His arms were spread wide, the shopping bag of presents dangling from one hand, and a wide grin splitting his face. Unfortunately, his girlfriend was too busy inhaling rose-fumes to notice.

His mood plummeted. He glared at the obnoxiously large triple-bouquet of peach roses sitting in a jeweled vase on Luna's dresser.

Someone had given her roses?!

And not just any old bouquet, either. But thirty-six perfectly blossomed, thriving, _lovely_ roses. That Ron definitely had not bought.

_Buggering fuck._

"What's his name?" he questioned, attempting (and failing) to keep the ire out of his voice.

"Whose, dear?"

"The rat who gave you those." He nodded at the ostentatious roses.

"He's not a rat, Ron. He's a Muggle."

His face flushed red. "A _Muggle_? A Muggle is trying to date you?"

"No, not trying to _date_ me. He's…well, I'm not at all sure what he's about, really." She turned to face him, holding the vase carefully in both hands. "They smell amazing," she said, smiling. "Here," she extended the vase toward him, but he frowned and took a step back. "Take a whiff. It's like springtime!"

"But you don't even like roses!" Ron accused petulantly.

"I'm entitled to change my mind," Luna shrugged. Then she noticed the shopping bag hanging forlornly from Ron's hand. "Oh! Are those for me?" she asked excitedly.

Ron's expression soured, and he hid the bag behind his back and stepped further away, preventing her from reaching for it. "Well, it was supposed to be. But since you're so pleased with another man's presents and all, I think maybe I shouldn't give it to you."

"Oh, Ron, stop being so childish. You know I always look forward to your presents."

"Sure, you do. That's why you were sitting here waiting so anxiously." The redhead glared halfheartedly and turned his head away.

Luna smiled at her boyfriend's antics. It was true that most girls would be fed up with such behavior, but she and Ron had always understood each other. She reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck in a placating manner. In a way, his jealousy was cute. "Actually, I was," she said. "And I'd like to properly thank you, of course. But I can't do that until you've given them to me." She kissed the side of his neck, nuzzling his chin the way she always did when he was upset with her.

He relaxed, turning his head slightly to look at her from the corner of his eye. "So you won't like his present more than mine?"

"I won't like his present more than yours," Luna repeated obligingly.

Ron stared at her for a moment, as though assessing her sincerity. Then, obviously satisfied, he gently shoved the bag into her hands. "Happy twenty-first birthday, love."

Luna's gasp of surprise and pleasure was enough to make Ron forget their almost-argument. "You bought me tulips! _Charmed_ tulips!" Luna exclaimed, gazing in adoration at the currently blossoming bouquet in her hands. "They're delightful, Ron. Thank you." A smile lit her face, and she leaned in to kiss him soundly on the lips.

Ron smirked proudly, watching as she moved to the other small gifts in the bag and squealed happily all the while. The triple-bouquet of peach roses sat forgotten on her dresser.

_Hah. Take_ that _Muggle prat. Giving my girl roses…_

A kiss on his cheek interrupted his thoughts, and he turned to see Luna cuddling her stuffed niffler. He noticed the dresser behind her was now boasting his charmed tulips; the vase of roses must have been deposited elsewhere in the room.

"Don't know why you worried so much, dear," Luna chirped, hugging her niffler tighter to her chest. "You bought all my favorites. So thoughtful!" Elated, she pressed another kiss to his cheek.

"So you'll toss the bloody roses?" Ron asked hopefully.

Luna's eyes widened. "I can't! That would hurt poor Thomas' feelings. His mother might come after me."

A beat passed before Ron could muster a proper response.

"Thomas, you said?" he repeated. "As in, Thomas, the little boy we sometimes see in the park? Whose mother runs a flower shop?"

Luna nodded.

Ron flopped onto the sofa, surprise coating his face. To think, he'd gotten jealous over a twelve-year-old! Little Thomas Kavanagh. _Twelve_-year-old Thomas Kavanagh.

The redhead looked over at his girlfriend, who was cooing over the now-withering tulips and chewing a piece of gum, the niffler clutched at her side. He'd thought a little kid—a _toddler_ really—was trying to steal his girl. _Overprotective much, Weasley?_ Shaking his head at his own stupidity, Ron stood and walked over to her, wrapping an arm snugly around her waist. As he tilted her head up to kiss her, he realized why he'd felt so threatened in the first place.

_Guess this means I want to keep her._


End file.
